


Lowlife

by Just_K



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, BAMF Maggie Greene, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Minor Violence, Pregnant Beth Greene, Protective Daryl Dixon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_K/pseuds/Just_K
Summary: Beth Greene finds herself in a sticky situation and Daryl Dixon helps her get through it
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here's the thing
> 
> I've recently began rewatching TWD from the very beginning and I'm currently dragging my feet through season five. We all know why
> 
> Anyway, this pairing gives my heart the flutters and I found myself falling down the rabbit hole of Beth/Daryl fanfiction. I was pleasantly surprised to find it rather popular amongst the fandom so I thought to myself "I can contribute to that!" and so that's what this is.
> 
> My contribution.
> 
> I can't wait to share what I have in store for these two, so please enjoy!

Beth fidgets anxiously, shifting her weight on her feet as the summer heat beats down against her skin. The weight of Georgia’s sun was never a thing to bother her, however the nerves twisting in her stomach made it hard to ignore the pulse of August’s heat.

Mindlessly, she tugs at the delicate cloth of her yellow sundress, pulling the fabric from her damp skin before she wets her lips. Ocean eyes trace the weathered wood beneath her as her mind runs circles within her skull.

Beth Greene wasn’t one to find herself in sticky situations such as these. When it came to trouble, she liked to think she was pretty good at steering clear of it. And yet, here she was, fighting back her nauseous mornings and missing the monthly appearance of her menstrual cycle.

The thought immediately brings a flood of memories to dance behind her eyes, dread coiling in her stomach as she bats them away with heavy lashes.

It was just so…  _ Stupid.  _ She was stupid. The first boy to tell her he loves her and she lifts up her skirt for him? And for what? She’d been too meak to ask if he had protection, too caught up in the moment where his lips met hers in a clumsy attempt of a kiss and the weight of his body falling onto hers as he pushed the seat back. 

Beth’s blood runs cold beneath her skin, fighting the scorching sun as she recalled the way her hands pressed against his chest because she couldn’t  _ breathe with him on top of her _ . How everything moved so quickly and then it was over. The only thing to serve as a reminder that she’d tossed away her holy gift was the hot trail of his release that had slithered down her thigh upon exiting his car. 

Since then she’d been going off prayers, unable to risk being seen purchasing a morning after pill at the local pharmacy. Hoping that God would see her unfit in her young age and spare her the trial of pregnancy. 

Clearly he had other plans for her, and while Beth tried not to look at the gift of a child as punishment, she couldn’t help but think that her maker was trying to teach her a lesson. 

A subtle breeze danced across her skin, and Beth welcomed it, allowing the faint smell of honeysuckle to pull her from her daze before her fingers twitched.  _ Jimmy,  _ she thinks before she reaches eagerly into the pocket of her dress, delicate fingers plucking her phone from the fabric. 

He hadn’t really spoken to her much after their last night together, where once was good morning texts and late night conversations were now messages sent few and far between, spanning the length of days apart as if that night meant so little to him. Which, she’s not as naive as she looks. She knows that the way he saw her changed, her image distorted in a way she can’t repair. It’d hung heavy in the atmosphere as he’d driven her home, it was evident in the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze. 

But despite this, it’d be wrong to leave him in the dark, and still she pauses, baby blues moving away from the screen to focus once more on the evergreen field in front of her ancestral home. 

There’s no sense in worrying him over something that might not be, while the signs her body is giving her make it painstakingly obvious, she should at least take a test just to make sure,  _ right?  _

But how would she even  _ acquire one?  _ It’s not like she could rely on her family. Her daddy would no doubt drop from a heart attack and Maggie was too busy being swept up by her boyfriend to even be present enough. Not to mention the lecture Beth would receive from her older sister. And anyone else within their household would just give word to Hershel behind her back. So it wasn’t an option. 

The youngest Greene shakes her head, moving to plop down on the wooden steps leading up to the porch with a quiet sigh of defeat. 

There was always Mr. Grimes, she thought, lifting her phone to begin sifting through contacts. He was better known around town as Sheriff Rick Grimes. Aside from Beth babysitting his two children on occasion, Rick and his family were long time friends of the Greene’s, ever since she could remember. And Rick always made a point to let her and her family know that he’d have their backs if they ever needed him. 

Still, Beth couldn’t help but think her situation to be much too personal for her to turn to Rick. It wasn’t necessarily that she thought he wouldn’t help- she  _ knows  _ he would in a heartbeat. But having to keep a secret like this from her daddy, Beth couldn’t ask that of him. So, she scrolls past his contact with a swallow, frustration building in the back of her throat as she tries to think of a possible ally. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter how many times she scrolls through her list of phone numbers, she comes up short every time. And with a defeated sigh, she rubs at her brow with one hand while her thumb still mindlessly glides across the screen as if to distract her from the wetness forming in her eyes. 

That’s when she pauses, misty eyes halting upon a particular name she was vaguely surprised to find still in her phone. She reads it over once, twice, shakes her head in disbelief because it might just be crazy enough to work.

After all, most folks around these parts know that a Dixon is the soul to turn to when there’s dirty work to be done.

It’s a thought that she shakes her head at, because who was she to believe in all that small town gossip, especially given her own circumstance.

Besides, Daryl Dixon was exactly a  _ stranger _ to her. He kept good company with Mr. Grimes and he knew her daddy. Even worked on the farm a few times- to which the older Greene had been skeptical. With the infamous Dixon reputation behind his name Hershel didn’t want that kind of trouble coming to his property. But, with Rick’s glowing recommendation, Daryl was seen on an occasion tinkering with her father’s tractor or clearing their wells. 

Her mind floods with the memory of hot whiskey eyes and the heady smell of leather that followed with his presence and she shakes her head. Despite only having said about five words to Daryl in passing, she knew him to be much more warm blooded than anything other Dixon she’d only ever  _ heard of. _

The only reason she even had his number was because Mr. Grimes had given it to her on account of a fishing trip Daryl had taken Carl on, just in case anything happened and Rick couldn’t be reached. She’s never actually texted the man though, he didn’t seem like the type to engage in casual conversation with an eighteen year old. 

But, at this point he was her only hope and  _ morally _ she doesn’t think he’d have an issue keeping his lips sealed around her father. He didn’t seem the type to stir the pot in any circumstance and that’s exactly what she needed.

So, before she can talk herself out of it or think up a better solution, Beth taps the message icon and quickly types. 

_ This is Beth Greene, do you mind if I ask you for a favor?  _ She types, ignoring the nerves in her stomach before she hits send. Lowering her phone, the young Greene worries her lower lip as she watches her screen impatiently. There’s no telling how long it’d take for him to get back to her, and this weighs heavy on her mind as she anticipates his response. 

To her relief, or to her horror she still hasn’t decided whether or not this was a good idea to begin with, she receives a message shortly after initially reaching out. She has to gather up the courage to press the little notification banner, wide eyes darting between the letters nervously. 

_ You one of Hershel’s girls?  _ It says, and Beth can feel her breath start to return as oxygen begins to fill her lung more efficiently. 

_ Yes _ she responds, not wasting another moment because time isn’t really on her side much these days. 

_ What do you need?  _ Daryl asks, his response coming through only a few beats after hers. It’s something Beth greatly appreciated in the moment and counters with a speedy reply in return. 

_ A ride  _ she stands as she hits send, feet already carrying her to the screen door. It doesn’t take her long to glide through the house, rummaging through her room for her backpack and her wallet. Her ears were trained to listen for the chime of her phone. 

She slings her backpack over her shoulder, giving her room a once over with her diamond eyes before she releases a small puff of air through pursed lips. 

_ Okay,  _ she thinks, tugging her phone from her pocket once more seeing as it’d buzzed against her thigh as she was gathering her things. 

_ Omw,  _ is all Daryl wrote in response. It offers little comfort to the youngest Greene, nervousness brewing beneath her chest because this was  _ actually happening.  _ In an attempt to keep her cool, Beth allows one more breath, in through her nose and out through her lips, before she turns on the heel of her boot, eyes still glued to her phone in her shaking hands as she typed instructions. 

She couldn’t have him pull up to the house, it was too risky-

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” 

Hershel’s voice rings out from behind her with a playful riff and she stops dead in her tracks just past the dining room table. Despite the hitch in her breath and the drop in her stomach, Beth lowers her phone to turn towards him. Her lips were already trained into a sweet smile, eyes blinking away the haze of uncertainty 

“Just goin’ out with some friends, Daddy, I’ll be back for supper,” she smiles, not hesitating to walk swiftly over to her father where he stood in the doorway of the kitchen to place a kiss upon his cheek if only to sell her act. 

“Be careful, and stay in touch,” Hershel says with a loving sternness, but Beth is already making her way back to the screen door, calling out to him as she pulls it open. 

“I will!” She chimes, the smile gone from her face and another knot twisting in her stomach. The August air hits her skin once more, kissing her flesh with the heat of a furnace.

It was gonna be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback! I'm not sure if I'll continue uploading chapters this quickly but I do plan on weekly updates :)
> 
> Either way, we're looking at a meaty fic here cuz I'm a sucker for slow burn and I've got a few things to knock out before we get to the juice.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy chapter two!

Daryl chewed his thumb as he drove, elbow resting against the open window of his rusty pick up while the other was rested atop the steering wheel. His saxe eyes trained on the winding pavement in front of him. To say his day had taken an unexpected turn would be an understatement.

He’d been waxing the strings of his crossbow with his next hunting trip in mind when his phone had chimed, to which he’d lifted his head from his ministrations almost dumbfounded. Getting a text at all was foreign to him these days. He wasn’t exactly the most popular guy in Linden County, and most folks that did reach out to him usually just left a voicemail on account of him  _ never _ being around his phone in the first place. Whether he be busy working under the grueling sun or following his brother around. 

However, with Merle being out of town he found himself a little more attentive to his cell as of late, waiting with a mild patience to hear from the older man.

Regardless, Beth Greene was the  _ last _ person he’d expected to hear from. Hell, he was surprised to remember he even had her number.

Her request was vague and he had a half a mind to blow her off. He wasn’t a goddamn taxi service, but he knew her family to be good people and for a girl like Beth to come to a guy like  _ him _ for a favor? It had his curiosity peaked, that’s for sure.

And, okay, if he’s being honest- waiting on Merle to show up or reach out was like waiting for water to boil and maybe that’s why he answered Beth in the first place. 

Definitely not because the absence of Merle had been weighing heavy on him, no, it’s because he needs to get his mind off his brother. To step away from the pot so that the water can start to simmer.

His thoughts begin to curve with the road, following the worn pavement and passing tall Georgia trees that lined the road, their leaves swaying languidly with the wind. For some reason Beth hadn’t wanted him to pick her up at the house, said that she was just fine meeting him at the edge of the road where concrete faded into soil.

It makes sense, it’s not like he had a glowing reputation. Sure, he kept in good with the sheriff, the man that Beth babysat for, who’s probably said nothing but kind words to her on his behalf. But people in this town  _ talked _ , with words that landed on young and impressionable mind’s such as Beth’s. Hell, even Hershel-  _ her father- _ needed the reassurance from a more “upstanding citizen,” such as Officer Friendly before allowing Daryl to step foot on his farm. 

And yet, Daryl couldn’t blame him. He’d lived up to the town's exceedingly low expectations of him countless times. Proving himself to be nothing more than what they pegged him to be

An ornery redneck.

A self-serving piece of white trash.

A  _ lowlife. _

Just like his brother and his drunkard father before him.

So yeah, maybe Beth trusted him on account of Sheriff Grimes, but not enough for her family to see her in his company- and definitely not enough for them to see her drive away with him. 

Alas, there she was, waiting patiently on the side of the road about a mile from her daddy’s farm, kicking up a red cloud of Georgia soil with the toe of her boot. The skirt of her dress swaying around the tops of her knees and a hand grasping the strap of a powder blue backpack on her shoulder. 

The sound of his engine must’ve caught her attention because she perks up, face flooding with recognition before backing away so that he can pull up beside her.

His brakes squeal as he rolls to a stop and Beth offers a tight lipped smile before approaching the vehicle, tugging the door open and sliding in beside him. She places her backpack on the floorboard down by her feet before she smoothes out the skirt of her dress and lifts her face to greet him.

“I really appreciate this, Mr. Dixon,” is the first thing she says to him. It comes out almost as a sigh, her voice breathy with relief. 

_ Mr. Dixon? _ He has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that. Instead, he just shrugs, waiting for her to shut the passenger door before turning the wheel for a quick U turn, still using one hand to steer as his other remains stroking the chapped skin of his lips. 

“Ain’t a problem,” he mumbles, straightening the vehicle into the proper lane before accelerating and following the pavement once more, “the hell am I taking you anyway?”

Beth pauses, having been in the process of tugging her seat belt over her chest. Her eyes halt on the dash as if she’d been a deer caught in the headlights before she recovers, slowly continuing to click the belt into place and settle against the backrest with a swallow. 

“Um, Coweta County? There’s a pharmacy just off the highway..” her voice falters with uncertainty and her eyes move to the open window, avoiding his gaze. Fiery wind catches a few strands of her golden hair that’s fallen from her ponytail and she tucks them behind her ear, keeping her attention on the passing trees. 

Coweta county was nearly a half hour drive, not that he minded. Still, Daryl drew his brows together in confusion. What on earth was he getting himself into here?

“Somethin’ wrong with the one here in town?” He asks casually, glancing her way once more before turning back to the road. 

“I just… can’t go to that one,” she says timidly, and this time he  _ does _ roll his eyes. Of course she can’t just give him a simple answer, irritation was heavy on his features with the small sigh he released in the back of his throat. 

Fucking teenagers. 

She must’ve noticed his vexation, because she turns, eyes wide and hands moving to grip the cushion beneath her, “I-I know it’s inconvenient but I’d be happy to fill your tank once we get into town,” she blurts, voice pleading and desperate. Daryl just scowls. 

“I don’t need your money,” he spits. It comes out a little more harsh than he’d intended but he wasn’t a damn charity case. If he couldn’t afford to haul her ass around then he wouldn’t have accepted in the first place.

Beth immediately recoils at this, shaking her head and knitting her soft blonde brows together, “I know,” she says timidly, baby blues falling to her lap where she’d moved to fold her hands, “it’s just- it’s the least I can do,” she mutters. 

Annoyance flares beneath his skin once more and Daryl minorly shakes his head at that. He didn’t have the patience for all this conniving, teenage  _ bullshit _ and he wasn’t gonna let her just sit there all tight lipped and reticent. Not when she came to him. If she felt like she owed him _ anything _ then she could offer him an explanation.

“Nah, you can tell me what’s so secretive you gotta jump counties just to visit a pharmacy. What- you need a Plan B or somethin’?” He bites, not even thinking before the words leave his tongue. Aside from the venom that runs in Dixon blood, the filter between his mouth and his brain had been long gone on account of growing up in Merle’s shadow.

There is a  _ small  _ part of him that regrets it though, the “soft part,” that Merle’s always teasing him about that he’d deny having if it weren't for the way Beth’s eyes shoot up to meet his almost startled, color draining from her face, leaving her already milky skin a ghastly grey before she lets out a shaky breath and drops her gaze once more to her twiddling thumbs.

“I think it’s a little late for Plan B,” she admits quietly, her words barely audible against the whipping wind flooding the cab. Still, they manage to reach his ears and for some reason, his stomach  _ drops.  _ Whether shock or a pang of guilt, he can’t help offer her a small sigh. 

“Shit,” he mutters almost apologetically under his breath, bracing both hands on the wheel as they approach a four way stop. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t  _ that.  _ He would’ve thought Beth to be way too devout in her Baptist beliefs to even  _ consider _ premarital sex.

“But, I haven’t- I mean I don’t  _ know  _ for sure,” Beth stammers, continuing to avoid eye contact as he rolls through the stop. Her body is shaking like a leaf now, as if she were ready to bust at any second with all the pent up emotions raging inside of her. 

“I haven’t even taken a test yet- I couldn’t. I know too many people-  _ my daddy _ knows too many people. I couldn’t run the risk someone recognizin’ me,” she chokes, her voice stumbling over her words as if they were stuck in her throat until finally she slumps, defeated.

He can’t for the life of him find words. Shit- he’s never been good at conversatin’ to begin with, and so the silence hangs heavy between them, palpitating like the raging summer heat outside. It’s not until he merges onto the highway, jaw clenched tightly out of habit as the tension radiates between them that Beth shifts against the backrest of the passenger seat. Her cheeks shiny from the wetness of her misty ocean eyes that stare miserably out the window. 

“I’m sorry,” she says with a small sniff, lifting a hand to wipe at her nose with the back of her index finger, “this is so  _ stupid, _ I shouldn't'a asked.”

There’s something about the way she crumbles, wrapping her arms around herself and inhaling a small _cry_ that strikes Daryl the wrong way. Some might say it’s because when he was growing up, crying was just an invitation to receive something _actually worth crying over._ This girl didn’t even _know_ _if she was pregnant_ _for Christ’s sake_ and here she was making a fuss over what could turn out to be nothing. 

_ That’s what was stupid _ . 

“Hey,  _ knock that shit off, _ ” Daryl huffs, hardened crystalline eyes finding her dewy baby blues as she spun her head to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna take you to this damn pharmacy so you can get a fuckin’ test- and you’re gonna grab some rubbers while you’re at it ‘cuz it’s gonna come back negative and I’ll be  _ goddamned  _ if you get yourself in ‘ta this situation again, ya hear me?” he spits, blood simmering beneath his flesh. Beth just stares at him flabbergasted, which just pisses him off even more. 

Maybe he was being a little hard on her, but shit, if she was gonna make adult choices-  _ adult mistakes- _ then there was no sense in treating her like a child. So he shakes his head, turning his attention back to the highway and adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“Worryin’ yourself over nothin’, girl,” he grumbles under his breath, resting his left elbow back on the window to resume gnawing at his thumb. Beside him, Beth swallows, lifting a hand to wipe at her damp cheek and brush the hair from her face.

After a short pause and a deep breath she nods, a small smile tugging at her lips, “thanks, Mr. Dixon,” murmurs quietly. He shoots her a stern glare, exasperation dissipating from his body at the sight of her teary grin and his own expression softens.

“Yeah, well, I’m not makin’ this trip twice so you best do as I say an’ stock up on some rubbers,” he teases quietly under his breath. It reaches her ears despite the noise of traffic around them and she lets out a soft chuckle.

“I sure will,” she grins, hoping that for  _ her sake _ he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof don't worry, we'll get the ball rollin' here soon.
> 
> In the meantime, feedback is always appreciated :))
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, so sorry for the wait, I've been a little busy mapping everything out :)
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope this satisfies
> 
> And again, thank you so much for all the feedback. It's very motivating <3

The rest of the drive goes by in silence, save for the whipping wind and the passing of other cars. There was less tension in the air and Beth felt as if she could breathe a little easier, that is until they had pulled up to the pharmacy just off I-85. Approaching the family owned business, hearing the worn pavement move beneath the tire of Daryl’s pickup had the air leaving Beth’s lungs as if they’d been in a vacuum. The young blonde found herself burning holes into the sign just above the automatic doors with her eyes, leg bouncing against the floorboards and her pulse beating against her ears.

It’d been a miracle that she’d heard Daryl at all, who had swung into a vacant parking space and thrown the truck into park.

“-your wallet,” is what had broken her from her trance, turning her head to meet his outstretched palm with wide ocean eyes.

He must’ve noticed her pale complexion, or her fidgety stature. God, was she  _ that obvious? _

A blush creeps across her milky skin, unnoticeable due to that pulsing heat surrounding them. 

“What?” she’d said dumbly, confusion etched across her angelic features.

“Gimme your damn wallet,” Daryl repeats, his patience evidently wearing thin. Subconsciously, Beth is reaching for her bag, brows knit in perplexity as she shakes her head.

“N-no, that’s okay, you don’t gotta-”

“Be a lot quicker if I did,” the older man bites. His tone isn’t angry, and there’s a level of understanding behind his eyes that she can just  _ barely _ make out. Still, it’s not like he’d stuck around too long for her to see it. He’d taken her small coin purse and pushed the driver’s side door open with his shoulder, gone within a blink of an eye to retrieve the items she so desperately needed.

So there she was, leg still bouncing and the Georgia sun baking the cab of the truck as she waited. Anxiety still coiled in her stomach as she licked the sweat from her lip.

It was gonna be okay, surely. At least, that’s what she tells herself. If Mr. Dixon had enough faith in the situation then perhaps she could stay looking at it in a more positive light. 

Besides, how many teenagers went through this  _ exact _ situation and things turned out to be fine anyway?

A small voice nags in the back of her skull, but the ear pinching sound of the driver's side door being yanked open once again is enough to drown it out and Beth turns her head to the source, watching the older man side into the cab as he tossed a pharmacy bag into the middle seat beside her. 

Without much of a second thought, Beth accepts the bag, reaching once more for her backpack to shove the items inside. 

“You  _ really  _ didn’t have to Mr. Dix-“

“Jesus, girl, this ain’t Sunday school,” Daryl quips, starting the truck. The rolling muscle of his bicep - visible on account of his sleeveless button up- flexing with the rotation of his wrist as he turned the keys in the ignition and his eyes in a small squint against the beaming sunlight, “quit bein’ so polite,” he finishes. The engine revs, and Beth just stares at him blankly, a blink to her baby blues before she realizes. 

He’s  _ teasing her.  _

Very subtly, but it’s there and she swallows, allowing a small smile to spread across her rosey lips. 

“ _ Sorry _ ,” she says playfully, shoving her bag back down by her feet, “I was actually taught proper southern manners growin’ up,” she grins, voice as sweet as honey as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Yeah?” Daryl asks, backing out of the parking space, “must’ve been nice.” The smile on Beth’s face remains as she turns to glance out the window. 

The drive back to town goes smoothly enough, it’s quiet but like before, it isn’t  _ bad _ . More and more Beth was beginning to think that Daryl was easy to fall into comfortable silence with. He wasn’t much of a talker, that much was obvious and Beth was less pressured to bring up small talk. Unlike being in the company of anyone from school or church who knew her for her bubbly personality and would often pester her with questions of her “odd behavior,” if she wasn’t up to talking, she could almost breathe around the older man. 

_ Almost.  _ There’s something with his stoic silence that makes her wanna break down his walls. But to him, she was probably just some dumb  _ kid _ who got herself into an even  _ dumber situation.  _

The young blonde doesn’t have long to dwell on it, from the corner of her eye something bright gleams against her cornea and she turns to face the windshield, heart jumping in her throat as panic floods her body. 

_ Shit _

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t  _ squeaked _ when she ducked down, avoiding the gaze of the familiar green Hyundai approaching them in the opposite lane, but she  _ drastically  _ underestimated the distance between her and Daryl in the short length of the cab.

The older man curses as he swerves, surprised by the sudden contact against his thigh.

“ _ The hell?” _ He exclaims, glancing down at his lap after straightening the truck, fists bracing the wheel. Beth doesn’t even realize she’s clutching the loose fabric of his jeans, she’s too worried about her cover being blown to even consider it. 

“That was  _ Glenn’s car _ .” She says, as if it were obvious. 

“Who the hell is  _ Glenn?”  _ Daryl asks, the muscle of his thigh tensing as he presses the brake, presumably stopping at a red light. He’s still clutching the wheel tightly, knuckles white against his sun kissed skin.

“My sister’s  _ boyfriend, _ ” Beth explains, still laying against his thigh but her eyes move up to find his, “he can’t see me, the guy can’t keep a secret to save his life- Maggie’ll know about this b’fore I can even walk in the door.” Daryl remains silent, the muscle of his thigh still tense before Beth actually processes her position. With scarlet flooding her cheeks, the blonde releases her hold on the rough fabric, sitting up cautiously but quickly. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, smoothing out her dress once more and then adjusting her spaghetti strap with a quick tug.

“Just give me a damn warnin’ next time,” Daryl grumbles, eyes glued to the road ahead. Needless to say, the remaining duration of their drive is much more tense.

He drops her off in the same spot that he picked her up, offering to drive up a little further- to which Beth declined. He’d already done so much for her, at this point she felt as if she were taking advantage of his hospitality. So he bids her adieu with a “good luck,” under his breath. Beth offers him a small nod and a smile, moving to shut the passenger.

"An' hey," he'd said quietly, leaning over the wheel and halting her movements. Beth had glanced up to meet his gaze from outside the open window, curiosity playing on her features, "if you need anythin' else.." his words trailed off with a soft mumble but they were genuine along with the gentleness of his eyes. It was hard to ignore the flood of heat that blossomed in her stomach, but the length of his kindness continued to surprise her.

Beth's grin simply grew and she thanked him once more before adjusting her bag on her angular shoulder and setting off down the dirt road. The sound of his engine fades beneath the rustle of leaves in the trees and sweat bees buzz against the skin of her legs as they follow alongside her path. 

There’s no one to greet her as she enters the house, but it was still pretty early in the afternoon. Daddy was probably off in the field with Otis and Patricia was probably tending to the horses. 

And heaven  _ knows _ where Maggie is. It’s like the woman can’t get away from the farm enough these days. Regardless, Beth doesn’t mind the solitude and makes a B-line for her bedroom. She’s quick to shut the door behind her, leaning against the door and blowing a breath of air from her rose petal lips. Oxygen leaves her lungs as if to relieve the weight bearing down on her back.

She languidly allows the strap of her backpack to fall from her shoulder, hitting the hardwood with a soft  _ thud.  _

_ What a day, _ she thinks, absolutely  _ dreading _ what awaits her. The small plastic stick that’s suddenly the bain of her existence. Still, it’s better to get it over with, especially since she’s seemingly got the house to herself.

Without much of a second thought, Beth pushes away from the door, swinging her bag up to hold in front of her as she walks over to her dresser, setting the cloth pack onto it’s wooden surface and feeling for the zipper with nimble fingers. Hastily, she tugs the zipper, sliding it across the teeth to split the pack open and revealing the stark white pharmacy bag.

She doesn’t bother removing it, just finds the opening to peer inside. There’s two boxes, a double pack of pregnancy tests and  _ of course,  _ a small box of condoms- to which Beth simply chuckles to herself. Her coin purse sits atop both lamenated cardboard boxes that she plucks from its place, wondering what the damage was considering there hadn’t been a receipt in the bag.

Her thumbs slide against the smooth metal balls, pushing them away from each other to open the floral patterned wallet. It strikes her as odd at first, seeing the curled paper bills untouched in their place. But after a moment, a small smile spreads across her face.

_ Daryl Dixon, who woulda thought? _

She’s torn from her thoughts and the sound of her bedroom door being thrown open has her gasping, head spinning suddenly to be met with the stern gaze of her older sister as Maggie  _ waltzes in _ . 

“Jeez, haven’t you ever heard’a knockin’?” Beth sighs, annoyance evident in her eyes as she turns back to her bag, shoving her wallet back inside and zipping it quickly before tossing the pastel pack beside her dresser. She hopes that her movements aren’t too skittish under her sister’s hawlike gaze.

“Why? You got somethin’ to hide?” Maggie asks shortly, green eyes holding the younger Greene steadily but her tone is casual. Her words had risen in pitch as if she’d been trying to sound almost cheerful.

_ Almost. _

“No,” Beth groans, trying to mask the ‘deer caught in the headlights,’ expression on her face as she moves across the floor to flop onto her bed. The cushion bounces with her weight and from the side she can see the older woman still scorning her with her gaze, arms crossed over her chest assertively.

“Really?” Maggie pries with a quirk to her brow, moving closer to the bed so that she was practically standing over her younger sibling. 

Beth simply offers her a glare, blue eyes sharp as she scoffs quietly and pushes herself into a sitting position. 

“You don’t gotta hover,” Beth spits, moving to the edge of the bed in an effort to avoid her sister’s gaze. But Maggie’s not having any of it, and marches around the wooden bed frame to plant herself in front of the blonde, arms still crossed and eyes like hardened emeralds. 

“You wanna tell me what you were doin’ ridin’ around with  _ Daryl Dixon?”  _ she spits and Beth’s blood runs  _ cold _ before it heats back into a hard boil.

_ Fucking Glenn. _

Despite knowing where the information came from, Beth shoots daggers at the older woman before she pushes herself off the bed, standing to meet her sister’s hard gaze, “it’s none of your  _ business _ ,” she huffs. The younger Greene turns on the heel of her boot to stomp towards the window, baby blues peering through the glass like ultramarine fire as she crosses her own arms. Maggie simply stands unfazed, watching her baby sister sternly.

“It  _ is _ my business, Beth,” she insists, “you don’t gotta be gettin’ yourself mixed up with people like him. Those Dixon’s are nothin’ but trouble,” Maggie shrugs, brows raised as a matter of factly. Beth just rolls her eyes at that, offering her sister a sideways glance.

“Right, cuz you’ve  _ never _ been in trouble before,” Beth mutters, rolling her eyes back towards her window. She silently wishes she could throw everything that Daryl had done for her today in Maggie’s face, but she briefly wonders why that matters.

“Stealin’ lip gloss ain’t nothin’ compared to drug dealin’ an’ bar fights,” Maggie quips, her voice carrying from behind the younger Greene. Still trained on the window, Beth draws her brows together, arms tightening around herself as she swallows. She tries to ignore the feeling that blooms in the pit of her stomach and boots thud across the floorboards. 

Maggie halts beside her, eyes softer as she reaches to brush a few strands of Beth’s golden ponytail from her boney shoulder.

“I know you don’t like me pryin’ but I’m just tryin’ to set you straight,” the older Greene says gently, “there’s no need gettin’ yourself into all that mess,” she finishes. Beth tightens her lips, the walls suddenly too close as she peers into her sister’s caring eyes. She offers the older woman a shrug, eyes darting downward before she speaks.

“He was just given’ me a ride to a friend’s- Mr. Grimes trusts him so I didn’t think twice about askin’,” the younger woman explains innocently. She’s lying through her damn teeth and can only manage to dart her eyes up at her sister’s for a moment before her hands are falling so she can fiddle with her thumbs. 

Maggie’s expression remains clement, however, jeweled eyes almost clear in the sunlight.

“Well, Mr.Grimes has a funny judge of character,” she says simply. Beth remains quiet, attempting to mirror the smile on Maggie’s lips with a small nod.

“Next time you need somethin’ you come to me, okay?” the older woman continues, giving Beth’s arm a loving squeeze. The younger Greene’s mouth runs dry and her mouth twitches, eyes darting to the powder blue bundle of her backpack lying against her rustic dresser before she swallows. 

“Okay,” she says timidly, knowing that avoiding her sister’s gaze is only going to raise suspicion, however her chest is tightening and the weight of the world is back on her shoulders.

Maggie’s hand falls from its place at Beth’s bicep, her palms sliding over her own thighs before finding a place in the pockets of her soft grey jeans. With a tight lipped smile, the eldest Greene seems to relax, her demeanor much more at ease.

“Well,” the taller woman sighs, “why don’t we go start on dinner? Daddy and Otis are gonna be starvin’ when they come back in,” Maggie suggests. With another quick shake to her head, Beth agrees, following behind her big sister as they make way for the door.

With one last glance, Beth looks over her shoulder, eyeing her backpack once more. She swallows her worry, shoving it in the back of her mind before turning to exit her bedroom.

_ Later, _ she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome :)


End file.
